My mother used to kind heartedly chastise me about not writing more often (way before the days of email). We always agreed that I would...but I used to make it such a BIG deal...had to write a book or I didn't feel it was worth anything.That's part of my problem with blogging...have to write a book or it's not worth anything.
Not true...my Grandma wrote to me in college every week: one page. Just to say she loved me...(and to send me money).
One page. I have great ideas...Really great...I promise...but for now, just to prove I'm still here:
I opened my coat pocket just now to pull out a tissue and saw my piece of gold string. Well, it's not really my gold string...I have it there for Dora.
What does she need with gold string? Well, she might be bored one day and I could pull it out and relieve her boredom by showing her the string.
That's why it was put there 6 years ago. She was 4.
Every year around this time (when it gets cold) I pull out my coat and, there it is. Never been used for its magic purpose. I should probably throw it away.
However, 30 minutes ago, when I saw it again, I thought of her...and remembered me.
Most self-respecting boys of 5 and older know that you can't leave the house without some string, a rubber band or two, a rock and a toy car. My pockets were always full when I left the house. I remember thinking that the string would be useful if I got lost, or stumbled into an adventure which required string.
And here I am. I finally found my adventure which might require string...her name is Dora.
I think I'll just hang on to it.
